Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 213974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1070(@200wpm)___ 856(@250wpm)___ 713(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1070(@200wpm)___ 856(@250wpm)___ 713(@300wpm)
Even when it was unfair and heartbreaking, dark and full of the unknown, life was still worth living.
Because rewards could be found among the chores. Little pieces of enjoyment that would come to mean something. Darkness always gave way to the light if given time, and while some heartbreaks may never completely heal, living allowed there to be space for new sources of happiness and pleasure.
Life was worth living even when it was full of unfairness and injustice. When the heart felt light and when the chest was too tight to breathe.
Because death was final.
The absence of choice.
And life was a collection of new beginnings.
Full of unending choices.
Time passed, I slept, and Ash continued to speak. His voice would grow louder and then become a whisper.
Another voice came, one that was quiet and serious—always serious. “You need to feed. When she wakes…”
When I woke, I would be…hungry.
Ash was quiet, then I felt his touch again on my cheek. His hand was cool but a bit warmer. “I never felt alive until you,” he whispered, “And I should’ve known then what you were to me. That you were the impossible. The one thing that could return a kardia, scratching itself together from the wound its removal left behind. My heartmate.”
Lips curving upward, I dragged my arms through the water as I smiled.
“Take as long as you need to rest,” Ash told me. “I’ll be here, waiting. I’ll always wait for you, Sera.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Ash’s voice faded away. The others returned for a time, calling to me, but then they, too, disappeared. Somehow, I ended up facing the bank of the lake.
The wolf was gone.
In its place was a large feline, one that resembled a cave cat, but its fur wasn’t the shade of storm clouds—it gleamed like moonlight. The feline prowled the damp, mossy ground at the lake’s edge.
I started to swim forward, unafraid. The cat’s tail swished back and forth as green eyes spliced with silver tracked my movements. As my feet brushed the cool shadowstone, I no longer treaded water but walked forward.
The feline stepped back, its large paws sinking into the soil and grass. I saw it was a female. She sank onto her haunches as I climbed the earthen steps. Water dripped from my fingers and hair as I knelt before the stunning creature.
I reached between us, placing my hand beneath her powerful jaw. Soft fur teased my palm and threaded between my fingers. A soft purr came from the cat’s chest. Movement behind her caught my attention. In the shadows, something moved—two of them. Smaller, their coats darker. My attention shifted back to the large feline. Our eyes locked, and I saw…
I saw me looking back.
A tingling sensation started in my feet and slowly traveled up my legs, followed by a rush of heat. My fingers twitched. A leg spasmed and then curled beneath softness. I forced my mouth to part. Something scraped against my lower lip as I drew in a short breath.
A solid and…cold body shifted beside mine and a scent reached me. Fresh mountain air and citrus. I liked that smell. A lot. Brief images of silver eyes and golden-bronze skin flashed in the darkness of my mind. My throat vibrated with a soft hum.
Something touched my cheek. Fingers. They sent a jolt of energy through me. “Sera?”
That voice.
Midnight silk and sin.
Something soft and warm rasped against my thighs and breasts. A blanket? Whatever it was, my skin grew even more sensitive.
“I know it’s hard waking up for the first time,” the midnight voice said. “It took me hours, so don’t fight it if you fall back asleep. We have time.”
But I didn’t want to sleep.
The fingers at my cheek slipped to my jaw, tilting my head. My back arched as that sound reverberated from my chest again—a trilling purr.
I was…I was so thirsty. Everything inside me was on fire. I felt parched and barren. My jaw throbbed, and my throat burned. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry. My muscles cramped as I tried to pry my eyes open. My lids felt fused together. The trilling sound I made deepened with my frustration, becoming a raspy growl.
“It’s okay. Give yourself time,” the voice soothed. “I’m right here. I’m with you.”
The hand at my jaw rose to the side of my face, his cool skin a brief reprieve against the inferno. I wanted to turn into the touch, press against it, but I was too weak.
I could not be weak.
Not…not before. And not now.
Gods, I was so thirsty. Hungry. And restless. My muscles felt unused, as if I’d slept for years, but it hadn’t been years. Days, maybe. Days while I listened to a voice. His voice. The voices of others. My mind was a mess of racing thoughts, explosions of knowledge that kept coming. But I needed to move.